Happy Birthday John
by ZoeMehefin
Summary: For John's 18th birthday his parents buy him a very special present: Sherlock Holmes. Omegalock AU, Collaboration between ZoeMehefin and Darcy Lovette. Rated M for mature themes and possibly sensitive subjects.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: This is a collaboration between me and Darcy Lovette (Link at bottom). We use Omegle, her being John and me being Sherlock. I then edit it and put it up here. Because of this most descriptions are written by me but speech is written by both of us. It also means there is no reliable publishing time as we both have to be online.  
****Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

"Happy birthday, John!"

John Watson, now 18, gave a forced smile as he took his seat at the breakfast table, which as usual was covered in a luxurious feast of fruit, kippers, pastries and meats. His mother smiled down at him as a beta servant loaded his plate with a selection.

"We've gotten you something very expensive this year." She said, as if they didn't do it every year. John nodded, taking a bite of bacon.

"Thank you, mother, but you needn't spend much." She waved this off, having her coffee refilled.

"Hush now, John, don't be rude. Your father and I have been talking and, what with your training, you wouldn't have time to find an Omega of your own. You're eighteen and don't have a single one! So, we're saving you the hassle!" John glared.

"Mother! I don't want an Omega! I certainly don't need you to buy me one! It's inhumane!" It was her turn to glare.

"John, don't be ungrateful. Your father is at the auction right now. There's a boy arriving today, around your age. Enjoy him!" John pushed his plate away and stood.

"I'm not hungry." He announced, leaving the room and storming off to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. How could his mother, an Omega herself, not be opposed in the slightest to the Omega trade? Auctioning off unbounded, orphaned Omegas to rich-but-too-busy Alphas. He knew his parents wouldn't leave him alone until he got one, and if he didn't, they'd have to buy one. He fell back onto his bed and glowered at the ceiling, filled with rage at the idea that a helpless boy was going to be forced into a room with him during his heat. John was strong willed, but even he couldn't resist that. His parents were impossible; they wanted grandchildren and they'd get them. No matter what the cost.

Sherlock frowned as he was guided up onto the stage. Omega auctioning was technically legal but morally he was opposed to it, being one and all. His parents had found one another through true, normal circumstance and convenience. Those same norms also took them away from him, which was how he ended up here. He wasn't sad about it; it just meant something else for him to adjust to. His brother Mycroft, also an Omega, had swiftly abandoned him for the first person to show an interest. A policeman called Greg. Sherlock didn't get along with Officer Greg, and soon found he was alone. Alone was fine for him. Until the auctioneers that was. An older blonde gentleman won him, for a very good price. Apparently frowning doesn't sell as well. He got into the blonde man's car and stared out the window until they arrived at his home.

John gave a disgruntled sign as the car pulled into the driveway, falling back onto the bed. Great, now what? Were they going to be locked in his room until the boy was ripe with his pups? The whole affair was sickening.

Sherlock looked at the house. It was a big house; clearly the man was well off. Was he here for him or someone else? The door opened and a woman held her arms open. She was most definitely an Omega, making the man her Alpha...who was he here for then?

"Hello! I'm Mrs Watson, what is your name, how old are you?" The woman asked, guiding him into the house and looking him up and down. Like meat.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, I recently turned 19." He replied, inspecting the home rather than look at her look at him.

John shook his head at the way his mother put on airs for guests. He knew how she saw him, an object, a belonging. He sat up and faced the door, wearing a scowl. He was determined to be stubborn, for all the good it would do.

"This is John's room, he's inside. Have fun." Mrs Watson forcefully shoved Sherlock into the room. The boy glaring at him, the previously mentioned John, certainly did not look too happy with this arrangement. He was short, which was uncommon for an Alpha. He had blonde hair, brown eyes, and a small nose which all together made him look around 16. However he assumed he was 18 from the cake he'd seen sitting in the kitchen as he'd passed.

"Hello. I'm Sherlock." He said, deciding to take little notice of him and inspect his room for some signs into John's personality or preferences. Nothing was immediately clear.

"Yeah... hi..." John's expression softened, "God, I'm sorry. I had no say in this. I didn't even know... I think it's awful." John couldn't help but pity the boy in front of him. He was far too skinny to have been eating properly, even though his height suggested a naturally thin frame. His dark hair made him look even paler and his bright blue eyes were an incredible contrast. The way he looked around his room showed how uncomfortable he was and made John suddenly aware of how pampered his life looked.

"Oh it's fine." Sherlock said, relaxing and looking John in the eye. "Well no it's not fine, frankly it's demoralizing and objectifying, but it's better than dying in a gutter somewhere."

John sighed, "I'll try and get us out of this. I don't want to be a father, I don't want to bond. But my parents are insisting."

"Well you are of that age. By Omega standards I'm practically an old maid." He smiled. "I suppose there are worse fates though."

John ran a hand through his hair, standing up. Great, the windows were barred. "... Goddamn it." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?"

John sighed, "I don't want to mate with you. No offense but... well, I'm sure you don't either."

"It's not exactly on the top of my to-do list." Sherlock said, looking at the bars on the windows. "But apparently I am your birthday present, so I cannot exactly leave."

John moved over to bang on the door, "Mother! I am not going to mate with him! This is rape, mother!" Sherlock stood to the side, allowing John to protest.

"It wouldn't be rape..." he muttered, mostly to himself.

"How is this not rape?" John turned to him.

"Rape is when one party is not willing. If both parties are unwilling...it's nothing." Sherlock pointed out. "The most they can do is keep us in here, which is perfectly legal as you are their child and I am technically property."

"It's exploitation!" John hammered on the door, "Mother! Open this door!" Sherlock looked around the room, allowing him to rage.

"Do you have any books?" John glanced at him.

"... Books. You want to read?"

"Traders don't exactly have a vast Library, I've missed reading." He replied plainly. John blinked and pointed to a table next to his bed.

"Um... a few on my nightstand..." Sherlock walked over to the nightstand and looked at the books. He took a bright blue one off the top and lay down on the bed to read.

"You may resume pleading for freedom, if you wish." John stared at him.

"How can you be so calm?"

"I have been dealt a fairly rough hand in life, I compensate by simply not caring about it." Sherlock replied.

"They want us to mate!" John yelled, "Mate! Make pups! Bond, even!"

Sherlock lowered the book.

"Honestly I don't see how that would be bad. Your family clearly has good resources, and a mixture of our genes would probably produce good looking 'pups'..." Sherlock returned to the book. "You know, from a logical standpoint."

"... How old are you? We're too young to have children!"

"19."

"Way too young. This isn't right."

"My parents had my older brother when they were our age, how old were your parents?" Sherlock asked, still reading the book. "You have excellent taste, by the way."

"... Maybe a few years older..." John swallowed and sat down, "I always thought I'd find my own when I was ready... after I'd become a doctor."

"Admirable career." Sherlock commented.

"But what about you? Don't you have dreams? Ambitions?"

"I wanted to be a pirate." Sherlock mused. "Beyond that...nothing really interests me. Perhaps a trophy-partner isn't a bad ending." Again, John stared at him.

"... That's awful. You can't think like that!" Sherlock pulled a slightly battered slip of paper from his pocket and slotted it into the book before placing it back on the nightstand.

"I have no education to speak of, I do not do well in typical social situations and I'm too skinny for manual labour. What would you suggest I fall back on?"

"This is wrong. You can't just accept this!" John stood sharply, marching to the other side of the room and shaking his head.

"If it were anyone else, I wouldn't." Sherlock folded his arms.

"... I'm not going to mate with you. There's only one solution."

"You'll send me back, I'll get auctioned off to a different Alpha who I will have no interest in, and then it will actually be rape."

"No, I won't let them." John blinked, "Wait..."

"Something occurring to you?" Sherlock said

"... You... want to mate with me?"

"Well not right now, but yes. You are the most interesting person I have met." John almost laughed.

"W-wait... you... seriously?"

"I thought I was being perfectly clear." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Good thing our children can inherit my intelligence as well."

"... Wow..." John ran his fingers through his hair, tugging, "This is madness... no, no, I can't be a dad. We can't give my parents the satisfaction."

"Well I'm not in heat yet, they have to wait regardless. What time do your family typically eat their evening meal?" Sherlock asked, his stomach quietly rumbling.

"Um... about... an hour, perhaps." Sherlock groaned and threw his head back. He pulled the book back off the nightstand.

"This Waters boy...I imagine he looks similar to you."

"Who? What?"

"Waters...Augustus...The book." Sherlock waved the light blue book.

"O-oh. Oh, right. Um, probably not. he's, you know... good looking."

"Exceedingly."

"... I wish this was under different circumstances." John took a few steps towards Sherlock.

"As do most people. My father met my mother by vomiting on her."

"Uh... excuse me?"

"When my mother and father first met, it was him vomiting on her at a party. She cleaned him up and soon after they began dating." Sherlock elaborated. "I quite like this Issac character." John smiled a little.

"How... romantic." He nodded, "Yes... I enjoy his sarcasm."

"What other things do you enjoy?" Sherlock asked. John thought for a moment.

"Um... rugby... reading... that's about it, really."

"What do you like about Rugby?" Sherlock still hadn't looked up from the book, he was quite a way through already.

"I don't. Honestly, I'm good at it and my parents make me, so I play it."

"It's a very male sport. Tackling one another, getting covered in dirt as you slam into the..." Sherlock stopped, quite unsubtly crossing his legs. "This Peter Van-something isn't nice." he said, changing the subject.

"um..." John nodded, "Yeah, he's kind of a douchebag."

"I imagine your family will be serving food soon. Is there a bathroom nearby I can use to wash my hands?" Sherlock slipped his bit of paper in the book again.

"I don't think they'll be letting us out until we've mated. Our food will be delivered here. But I have an en suite..."

Sherlock looked for the door which was most likely the bathroom. He moved swiftly towards it, barely touching the floor. John pulled himself up onto the bed, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them. He sighed deeply, what a great birthday this was going to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: apologies for the long wait, we lost a large section of what we'd done and I had to rewrite it all (Hopefully you won't notice which section). Also my exam's have started up again, so I have less time spent online. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Sherlock left the bathroom a few minutes later, significantly more relaxed. He looked at John and stood there, unsure what was going to happen with this boy he was trapped in a bedroom with.

"I... don't want to mate with you because my parents request it. It won't be right, to either of us."

"Okay." Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed, a respectable distance from John.

"Maybe... I could... try and break us out of here." John swallowed.

"Sounds...interesting." Sherlock smiled.

"I have a savings account. Enough to buy a place. You could... live with me.. if you wanted." Sherlock's smile widened.

"That...sounds very nice." John smiled.

"Great! But... first things first. We need to get out."

"Do you know how to pick a lock?" Sherlock asked.

John shook his head.  
"No... sorry."

"Well it's a good thing I do." Sherlock laughed. "Do you have any pins?"

John nodded, reaching into his bedside table, "Harriett is always losing hers. I always have some spare ones for her."

Sherlock took a few of the pins and went over to the bedroom door. He first checked through the keyhole to make sure no-one was outside. There wasn't. He began picking the lock.

"You might want to start packing." he suggested.

Stranger: John stared at him in bewilderment, "Wow... oh, yes!" He hopped up, "Wow... this is happening..."

Sherlock smiled to himself as he picked the lock. There was a small click and he tried the handle. The door opened. He stood up and held his hand out to John.

John clutched the bag and took it, staring at him, "... I'm a little scared..."

"Aren't you supposed to be the Alpha here?" Sherlock teased. He ran, pulling John behind him.

John barely had time to rolls his eyes before he was pulled out, almost struggling to keep up.

The two ran through the house staying as quiet as they could. They slowed down outside dining room where John's parents were talking and sped up again before reaching the front door.

"Are you absolutely sure?" John asked. Sherlock laughed as he knelt down to pick another lock.

"One hundred percent." John looked at Sherlock as he picked the lock, knelt down and staring intently. He was only on one knee showing the curve of his back even through his jacket. His hips moved slowly from side to side, probably to stop him cramping as they ran out the door. It was strangely hypnotic. Suddenly John was being pushed backward. Sherlock was pushing him.

"What?" John said as Sherlock shoved him into the nearest cupboard. It was a small tight space filled with coats reeking of designer perfumes and cologne.

"Shit, shit, shit" Sherlock muttered.

"What?" John asked again, getting annoyed.

"Your parents appear to have invited my brother and his…partner for the meal. Which means they are expecting us to eat with them."

"So we wait for them to walk past and leave." John said. Sherlock didn't reply, listening intently at the door. He tried to ignore how close he and John were in the cupboard. There was at most an inch between them, and at certain points they were touching. It was incredibly distracting.

"John, I am more than willing to run away with you, but can we wait one night?" Sherlock proposed, still staring intently at the door.

"Why? Don't you want to get away now?" John asked.

"I haven't seen my brother in a long time; I should see him before I vanish possibly for good." John paused, making the distance between them even more uncomfortable. Eventually he spoke.

"Okay. Let's head back to my room before they notice we're gone." He slowly opened the door and the two crept out.

"Thank you." Sherlock said as he shut John's bedroom door behind him. John sat on his bed, fist clenched. "Is something wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"No, I just…I was looking forward to leaving this damned place." John muttered.

"Would you like a hug?" Sherlock asked, holding out his arms. John nodded, stood and wrapped his arms around Sherlock. He let his head rest against Sherlock's chest. His clothes were doing a good job of hiding the fact that he clearly hadn't been eating properly. Him being as skinny as he was meant the hug wasn't very comfortable, but it was comforting.

A few moments had passed when Sherlock made an odd choking sound.

"Are you okay?" John looked up at Sherlock.

"Fine." Sherlock said, letting go of John with one arm to wipe tears from his face.

"You're crying?"

"It appears so."

"Why?"

"Probably because it's been so long since I was comfortable in someone else's arms." Sherlock replied, still dabbing at his eyes.

John didn't reply, and simply held Sherlock closer. Sherlock buried his face in John's hair and began to sob.

* * *

After what seemed like hours, but was in reality a few minutes, there was a faint knock at the door. It was John's mother.

"John, it's time for dinner! Get dressed and come down, we have guests!"

Sherlock pulled out of the hug, wiped his eyes and made sure his clothes were tidy. "She's assuming we've had sex already." He stated.

"I'll have to correct her. Come on, your brother is waiting.

The dining room in the Watson house was quite grand. John sat down first. John's mother was sat next to John, and John's father sat opposite her. Sherlock's brother and his partner sat opposite John.

Sherlock sat down, looking at his brother across the table.

"Mycroft."

"Sherlock."

"You've lost weight."

"You are quite literally owned. Like cattle."

"And you've eaten enough to know."

There was a pause as John's parents weren't quite sure how to respond. Suddenly the two brothers smiled at each other.

"It is good to see you Sherlock."

"Likewise."

John smirked, earning a glare from his mother. He shrugged as his plate was loaded with food, but he only picked at it. He'd lost his appetite. Sherlock began eating modestly, secretly wishing to wolf down the whole plate.

"So Sherlock, what with you being bought and all, when do you plan on mating with this boy?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock noticeably twitched, but continued eating.

"Brother I am not going to discuss that, nor do I want to hear about your child with that baboon next to you. You abandoned me, your own flesh and blood, the instant he showed up." He gestured to Mycroft's partner with his fork, "While I may lack the capacity for social graces I certainly understand you are not supposed to do that. Now let me enjoy this very nice meal someone has prepared for me."

Mycroft went completely silent. Sherlock let his arm fall to his side while he ate, allowing it to subtly brush John's leg. John felt his eyes widening slightly, but otherwise didn't react. He tried to move it away in a not-now-my-parents-are-watching kind of way.

"Whether Sherlock wishes to mate or not is up to him. I shan't force him."

Sherlock moved his hand to his own lap and allowed himself a short smile while he ate. John Watson was most certainly the most interesting person he'd met. By far.


End file.
